Story of My Life
by SaturnineSunshine
Summary: Blair tries to move on from the one person that she never could. How she deals with sex, lies, and games. Chapters contain flashbacks. Blair's POV.
1. Prologue

**A/N**: This is the prologue to a four-shot. If anyone has read Story of My Life, that's basically where I got this idea. Not very original, but I couldn't help myself. This is a short chapter, but if you want me to continue, it gets better.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own GG or Story of My Life. All rights go to the respective artists.

* * *

I'm in love with a self obsessed, heinous, gorgeous sex maniac. I don't believe in unrequited love or any of that. But I know without a doubt that he will plague me for the rest of my life. I am inflicted with a disease. There is no cure for this disease. It is the malady of loving someone so like yourself, and yet completely the opposite. I know I will never rid myself of this infection. He will always be there, leering at me with those lustful, exotic eyes of his and in the same breath, always turning away from me. Story of my life.

That's what this is. I need to get away from him, knowing that I cannot. He has no right coming up to me when I'm with one of my beaus and act offended. Really, he should know that this is all for him. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be trying (to no avail) to find someone who isn't self destructive.

That's how I met Dean. He is my anti-love which is why I'm with him. I can really love him, or at least pretend to quite convincingly. He's blonde, blue eyed, doesn't do drugs, and has a basic steady lifestyle. He's a business man. He's rich. That's enough for me.

Dean is actually sort of like Nate except a lot smarter. Not just in looks, but he's actually a pleasant person. He's nice. He doesn't try to rip me apart. Every conversation isn't a power struggle. It's pretty much perfect. The problem with perfect is that its only an image. Things that seem perfect are usually not.

There's only one thing that bothers me to my very core. It shouldn't. Its just a physical thing. He listens when I talk. He's nicer still. (There's that word again... _nice_.) He pretends to understand. He gets the obviousness of the situation but lacks the quality that allows him to instantly be able to relate. Only one person has that ability. And I'm trying my damndest to leave him in the dust. If only he would make it that easy.

There's still that other thing that I can't let go. It's such a superficial and, well... _Upper East Side_ thing to think. The one thing that I can't shake is the sex. Its nice. It's tentative. It's sweet. But somehow, its just not right. Its not passion. Its not fire. It doesn't swallow me whole. It doesnt have that stupid sensation that makes me literally go numb and lose the ability to spell my own name.

So there it is. I'm in love with a self obsessed, heinous, gorgeous sex maniac. But I'm not with him. Story of my life.


	2. Butter

**A/N**: I didn't have that many reviews, but I'm submitting this anyway because the whole thing is already written. Sorry if it's a little rushed but I'm sort of in a hurry.

**Summary**:

"I never thought you would turn away from your type," Chuck mused conversationally. I scowled at him. Everything about him is deliberate. He probably scripted how this entire conversation will go. He knows exactly how I will react and I can't help it.

"I don't have a _type_," I said shortly. Chuck just turned his amused gaze on me.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own anything. Obvs.

* * *

In retrospect, going to _Butter _in the first place may not have been the best plan. It was exactly the sort of place where we would run into exactly the sort of people I was trying to avoid. Sure enough, the one person I hadn't wanted to see while I was out making out with my new boyfriend approached them with nonchalance. He was alone. That was a first. I was definitely going to address the later.

"Dean," he greeted in that low husky voice of his. "Where have you been?"

I suppressed myself from cringing. I knew he was ignoring me pointedly.

"Chuck," Dean greeted uneasily. Unlike Nate, Dean wasn't stupid. He knew that if Chuck Bass was making a point of talking to them, disaster was sure to follow.

In my defense, when I started going out with Dean, I had no idea that he and Chuck were actually on friendly terms. I knew the disaster of dating Chuck's friends and I sure as hell wasn't going to make that mistake again.

Chuck wasn't really known for being the friendly type either. How was I to know? But that's the thing about Chuck. The hits just keep on coming. Story of my life.

_Blair wasn't known for being the type of girl to just bring guys up to her apartment. But she could really see herself having a nondestuctive relationship with this person. She knew she could never love him to the degree that she was accustomed to. To the degree that she could only one other person. Tentative pleasantness would be enough._

_Dean was good looking enough, smart enough, wealthy enough. He would make a good match. God, she sounded like her mother. The same mother that forbade her to see the one person that she had recently discovered was quite difficult to live without. But she would make it work._

_Dean's kisses were adequate. It was obvious their relationship wouldn't be a passionate love affair, but really, she didn't think anything would hold up to her past indiscretions. Great. Now she was talking like him to. The Basstard._

_"So," Dean attempted to make conversation before things got too far. He was so nice. "Do you usually live out of hotels like this?" It was a work in progress._

_"It's just easier," Blair shrugged, convincing herself that it was okay that some guys didn't immediately want to throw her down across the leather interior of his limo. But they were in her room, not a limo. She had to keep remindind herself of that. "I'm connected."_

_"You know the owner?" Dean asked. Blair wanted to convince herself that tone in his voice was him being impressed. That didn't stop the fact that she didn't really want to address this particular subject._

_"We're acquainences," Blair said carefully._

_"You're acquaintances with Chuck Bass?" Dean asked skeptically. Blair was surprised that Dean knew who it was. Chuck Bass was well known, but not everyone had a list of all the hotels he owned. There were too many. It was tiring trying to find one that his name was attached to, so Blair didn't even bother anymore. Anyway, it paid off to be connected to the richest man in America._

_She also didn't like the way Dean said _acquaintences_. Everyone knew Chuck's reputation. There were many implications associated with that word._

_"We grew up together," Blair said vaguely. She really didn't feel like getting into it about the person she was desperately trying to forget._

_"That's all?"_

_Blair looked at him curiously. She couldn't lie to a person who seemed so honest with her, but it was strange how he just seemed to know._

_"Do you know him?" Blair asked suddenly._

_"We work together," Dean relented._

_"You work at Bass Industries?" How did she not know this? All she knew was that he was a wealthy... Oh. Damnit. She should have seen this one coming._

_"You were with him?" Dean ignored her question like she ignored his. "For how long?"_

_"Its complicated," Blair said weakly._

_"I never thought you would be the type of person to date that jerk," Dean muttered._

_"I thought you said you were friends," Blair stated. Dean shrugged. Men. Everything was one testosterone contest. _

_She found the word "date" strange in this context. She wasn't sure if what they did constituted as dating. They never really put a label to it._

_"We grew up together," Blair repeated, trying to defend herself. "It just sort of happened."_

_To say that Blair was shocked was an understatement. Since when was Chuck just the sort of person to just make friends. He hate Nate. He had Eric. He and Nate had been friends forever. He and Eric were friends because they lived together for a year and a half. Like everything else in his life, things just happened._

_"Its more of a competitive friendship," Dean finally adressed._

_That was how Blair would describe everything about this chain of events. Competition. Sometimes it wasn't even about her. Sometimes Dean and Chuck just wanted to get back at each other. But the real reason was obvious, even though Blair chose to ignore it._

_Chuck didn't like people meddling with what rightfully belonged to him. As possessive and testosterone based it was, Blair knew Chuck had a tendency to get insanely jealous. At least when it came to her._

_The problem with Chuck was that you would never know it unless you knew _him_. And Blair knew him better than anyone. He had phases of these jealousy attacks that were easy to pinpoint when you were as close as they were. _

_Chuck would spot the problem. He would glare for a while. He would approach and then systematically sabotage to get what he wanted._

_Blair had seen it one too many times. Actually, not just one. More like a thousand. Chuck always got what he wanted. What Blair was unaware of was that he never stopped wanting her. The number of times they just exploded, she thought he was done with her. Unfortunately, Chuck would never be done. She should have seen that coming._

_It was only a matter of time before Chuck would find out. He had around the clock private invenstegators on a rotating schedule. But so like a Bass, a Waldorf never backs down._

I hate being uncomfortable. But apparently Dean hated it more. He actually ditched me and left me alone with my turbulent ex. If he was so "competitively friendly" with Chuck, he should know how he operates. But then again, I guess no one knows Chuck Bass as well as I do.

"I never thought you would turn away from your type," Chuck mused conversationally. I scowled at him. Everything about him is deliberate. He probably scripted how this entire conversation will go. He knows exactly how I will react and I can't help it.

"I don't have a _type_," I said shortly. Chuck just turned his amused gaze on me. My weakness. Those damned eyes of his. He's so smug that he knows.

"Oh no?" he asked smugly. "Not handsome, rich billionaires with dark demeanors and encredible wit?"

"I don't recall ever having been with one of those," I said smoothly. He just smirked. I hated myself for caving into him like that. I also hate to admit that I love the banter between us as much as he does. Its like foreplay. Not a good sign when I'm here with someone else.

"So Dean must have had a good time on Thursday." I could tell by his tone that this was premeditated as well. Normally, I would have been able to hide my surprise and realization. He knew me too well.

Thursday night I tried calling Dean multiple times to no avail. It was 2 in the morning when I gave up. Chuck got me and he knew it. Usually I wouldn't give him the satisfaction, but he knew as well as I that he had my attention. I needed to know what happened that night and he would be the one to tell me.

"Thursday," I stated simply. He took that as his cue to go on.

"It was quite the affair," Chuck said, his arm over the back of his chair scoping out the room probably for some disposables. So predictable. "We took our dates to that new club in midtown. He probably didn't get home until 3."

I stiffened at the word _dates_. Damn that Mother Chucker. He got me and he knew it.

He finally turned his penetrating eyes back to mine after what seemed like a geological age. He was triumphant. I could read him so well. As well as he could read me.

"You know Vicky Hane don't you?" He was playing with me now. He knew he trapped me and he knew how to play this. What did I ever see in him? Oh yeah, I remember now. "Nice girl." That word. Nice. But it doesn't mean nice in a good conatation. When Chuck uses the word nice, he really means a nice screw. "She's model. She won't find a cure for cancer or anything, but she's--"

"_Nice_," I cut in savagely. There's that sexy smirk of his again. God, what is wrong with me?

"He's obviously more interested in you," Chuck said. But I knew where he was going with this. His voice was getting suggestive. "With all of your..." he eyed me seductively, "enticing features, how could he not?" Just when I thought he couldn't get any grosser.

I knew what he was referencing. That Snowflake Ball so many eons ago when we picked each other's dates. That had backfired too, so like everything else in our sad attempt at a relationship. He wanted to know if she had the same _features _as me. Jackass.

"I'll have to cut this meeting short," Chuck stood up abruptly, straightening his dinner jacket. He spoke as though this was just a business deal. I knew the real reason he was leaving. He spotted Dean. He had done the job of his destruction and now it was time for him to leave. Typical.

Though he was leaving now, I knew him better. It would be a short time until he struck again. He had completely manipulated me and sabotaged my relationship wtih Dean and he knew it. I wanted to be furious with him, but the only person I could find myself furious with was Dean.

"Have a wonderful evening," Chuck said, his voice coated with suggestion. I had to confront Dean. It was only a matter of minutes before Chuck found some easy blonde at the other end of the bar.

Dean conveniently found me after Chuck had left. I looked up at him, wondering if he could see the betrayal I felt like I was smothered in. Once was enough. I wasn't about to be cheated again. He was more like Nate than I thought.


	3. Truth or Dare

**A/N**: This is the climatic chapter. After this, there's only one more.

**Summary**: Chuck has that look. I am so accustomed to this look that I'm surprised it hasn't become routine by now. I mean, does he want to be completely obvious? Well he obviously _doesn't _care. He's just staring at me with those seductive and lustful eyes of his that used to be foolproof and magicking my clothes off.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own GG or Story of My Life. All credit goes to the respective artists.

* * *

Dean isn't used to the lifestyle. He's rich, but he's not Upper East Side. He's not... okay, I'm going to cut that thought off right now before I even think _his _name. He isn't used to the parties and the clubbing. But really, he deserves the treatment I'm giving him.

Turns out he really did screw that Vicky Hanes model whore. Now he just follows me around like an obedient little puppy, catering to my every whim to make it up to me. I don't know why I'm still with him. When you get cheated on, you leave them. That's just how it works. This is like junior year all over again. I thought I left high school behind.

Technically Dean and I were casual. We weren't that serious so was it really a bad offense? And apparently he had the "date" with this girl weeks before he even met me and and it would be "rude" to cancel on her. Yeah, whatever. That's what I hate the most. Guys who aren't straight up with you. I guess I was just accustomed to the wrong people. But then again, it was that "wrong people" that alerted me to this cheater in the first place. What a predicament.

So in the middle of this club a week later and who should be run into but the Devil himself? Good thing we're not alone. At least, its not just Dean and me. Serena (thank God) has my back on this one, even if she did invite Boring Humphrey. (I don't even bother using his actual name anymore. He doesn't have one.) Penelope and Is are also there as well as Nate.

Thankfully (for Chuck) they've gotten over that whole competiitve thing they went through in our senior year. (Though its not completely beyond me that I don't notice that Chuck only ever gets competitive when it comes to me.) Nate is supporting him on this one (though I'm still not quite sure what this is) and just crosses his arms with that dull expression that I was certain was him being stoned in high school, but now am sure that he's just dull minded. Epiphanies.

I can't escape those eyes. They follow me everywhere. I feel like they never left. Dean is stuck to my side the whole evening. Either he's completely stupid (which I was certain he wasn't) or he doesn't completely miss the lecherous dark eyes that bore into me all evening.

Chuck has that look. I am so accustomed to this look that I'm surprised it hasn't become routine by now. I mean, does he want to be completely obvious? Well he obviously _doesn't _care. He's just staring at me with those seductive and lustful eyes of his that used to be foolproof and magicking my clothes off. I mean, what the hell? But I can't address this. Not now. Not with Dean so (uncomfortably) close.

So I ignore the desire in his eyes as we all get inside his limo. (Yes, this seems like a really bad idea, considering the past activities that have occurred in here, but he offered to drive as all back to The Palace for some more partying, and who am I to say no?)

As sure as I am that my eyes are brown, Chuck brings up the past as soon as he finds an opening. Of course he does.

"So," he said innocently (yeah right, if that ever existed in Chuck Bass,) "what do you think? I had the interior reupholstered." I don't like where this is going. "Blair." He turns to me with that dangerous look on his face. "You're probably the one who got the most good look at it. Especially the interior. What do you think?"

I feel Dean stiffen beside me. Chuck obviously doesn't give a damn about what anyone thinks about the leather. I doubt he even really got it reupolstered. He just loves pointing out to everyone the activities that transpired between me and him so many times in the back of this very limo. Story of my life.

"It looks the same as any other limo," I said simply. "Nothing really sticks out in my mind." I had to hit him where it hurts. But being typical Chuck Bass he just smirks that he got me involved in more badinage. I hate him. He knows exactly where he wants me and is getting me there.

I suppose that's who we all ended up in his suite playing truth or dare. We haven't done anything like this since my infamous soirees in high school. However, we did have to put one rule in place now that the boys were joining us. There could be no sexual contact. I know that puts Dean at ease. But that doesn't prohibit any nudity. And Chuck doesn't need contact to cause trouble. He can cause as much destruction with his words.

Which I guess that's how all of this destruction occured. Sprawled on the floor of Chuck's suite, drinking copious amounts of various substances. And one point, I was even convinced that Chuck had the whole thing orchestrated, because what happened next could not just be a conincidence.

"Truth," Chuck said without hesitation.

"From one to ten," Penelope said evilly to him. "How would you rate Blair in bed?" I glared at her. What a bitch. Chuck took his time with this one. I wasn't surprised. He had years of bedding Manhattan socialites to sift through. What was so memerable about me?

"Nine, " he finally answered and I knew he was looking at me, the bastard. I raised my eyes to meet his which were glittering with desire again.

"Nine?" Is asked in surprise. I tried not to take offense. Chuck shrugged.

"What can I say?" he asked with amusement. "The girl's got talent." That was probably Dean's breaking point, now that I look back on it. He was just sitting there strewing, though he did get to see Serena get dared to take her top off (again) which of course she complied.

I really should have seen Dean strike back, but really, I suppose he was just trying to get truthful information in a failless plan. He directed his question at Chuck (because I'm now realizing that the guys always take truth. Cowards.)

"Do you still want Blair?"

"Be more specific," Penelope shook her head. She really was the queen of these games. Dean sighed.

"Would you sleep with Blair again?" If he wanted the truth, he was going to get it. Actually, he wouldn't have had to even use the game of Truth or Dare. Not only would he love to say the truth just to get under Dean's skin, but Chuck doesn't lie to people. He says its unbecoming. He would have told Dean outright what he told him right then under the oath of Truth or Dare.

"Absolutely," he drawled. So like a Bass. So we went around the circle (one question being had Is ever kissed another girl and the answer was yes, it was at one of my parties on a dare.) Penelope had to be a bitch again.

"Blair," she said. I hated that look in her eye. She was favoring herself as being a hateful bitch when everyone knows that title goes to me. "Have you slept with Chuck recently?" Good god, what was this, Destroy Blair's Relationship Night? Chuck seemed to be enjoying himself, but I knew why.

"Define recently." I wasn't about to think of the implications of that statement. The answer was pretty obvious already. Especially to Chuck.

"In the last week," Penelope clarified. Damnit. Chuck just leaned back, enjoying the show. I could lie. I really could. But this was Truth or Dare. And there were two of us that night and Chuck doesn't like to lie. My silence implicated me more than if I actually said it out loud.

"You have to tell the truth, B," Penelope grinned. I was so putting Nair in her mascara tube later.

"Yes."

_It had been Chuck's plan all along. Obviously. He diliberately sabotaged Blair and Dean's relationship to get to this point._

_Blair was livid. Once again, she had trusted someone and they had cheated on her. At least it wasn't with her best friend this time. Small victories. But she couldn't live with knowing he had played her like that. _

_Maybe this was simply for revenge. That's what Serena had thought when she found out about it the first time. But the reality of it, was that it wasn't. Chuck just knew her. She felt betrayed and he knew how to comfort that. He just knew her. That was the real reason she called him._

_"You're taking me out tonight," she announced into the phone. Chuck smirked at the other end._

_"How unfortunate," he sighed. "I have a previous engagement." Usually his schemes didn't work like this. She usually saw right through them. But that was when he wasn't messing with her relationships. Now that there was someone to hurt her other than him, it was actually quite easy._

_After she had clarified that Dean really had screwed that slut, it was obvious what the only other thing she could do was. It was his plan all along, she knew. Somehow, she just didn't care. She really never cared about his schemes the way other people thought them terrible. The big secret was that she was exactly like him. She did that practice too and didn't mind the things he did. If anything, it made them closer._

_"You're taking me out tonight," she repeated with vigor. How could he say no?_

_"Anything for you," he said in triumph. Blair snapped her phone shut. Small victories._

_That night was a blur up until she got back to her room. The dinner was nice. She was glad he didn't overdo it with innuendos, though she did have to admit he put some well placed clever ones in there with the masses. That really wasn't supposed to be an attractive quality though, so she pretended she wasn't impressed. Because she couldn't be...right?_

_"You're staying on that side," she ordered as they slid into the limo. He complied but with that mischeivous look on his face. Typical._

_"As you wish," was all he said. Blair pretended she didn't know what that particular tone meant. _

_Blair expected him not to follow her as she got out to her building, but she really should have thought otherwise._

_"I'll walk you up," he said in pursuit. Blair would really rather he hadn't but she didn't broach the subject. And she _really _tried to ignore his hand on her lower back, guiding her. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Oh yeah. Chuck Bass._

_Blair didn't spare another glance as she shut the door with him on the opposite side. He was expecting this, however. He propped his foot between the doorjam and it bounced back against the wall. She was already at the bar on the other side but knew where he was when she heard the door shut quietly behind him._

_Blair steadied herself at the counter top, completely aware of the danger that was appraching her at a deadly saunter. She got a wave of deja vu as she felt Chuck's hands at her elbows, turning her around the meet him in the dark room. It felt so much like a certain blackout when she was sneaking around with him. It was practically the same except that she knew this time the lights weren't going to come back on._

_Chuck braced his palms on either side of her against the countertop, trapping her._

_"It really is a shame," he said in a low husk, a tone he knew he used to cause her a disadvantage. She doesn't bother to ask what. "Another boyfriend's betrayal. Who ever could you turn to comfort?" Blair tried to avert her face from him to no avail._

_Chuck captured her lips with his gently, as though asking for permission, though she knew that was just an illusion. What Chuck Bass wanted, Chuck Bass took. From there, things progressed quickly. Suddenly his hands grasped her hips and he lifted her onto the bartop. Blair gasped as he trailed down the curve of her neck._

_"Tell me you want me," he said huskly._

_"What?" Blair asked, pulling away. His expression still looked smug. She hopped off the counter and pushed him away. "No!" That didn't stop her from pulling him back for another kiss, however._

_"Tell me you need me," he whispered._

_"No," she said shortly between kisses. Chuck suddenly stopped. She wasn't sure why. His intense gaze seemed to burn her retinas as he looked upon her. She backed up instinctively away from him. He just kept walking towards her until he backed her so the back of her knees hit the edge of her bed._

_He wasn't gentle this time. He grabbed her roughly around her waist, while crushing his lips against her. Her heart was pounding so fast that she couldn't do anything but grab him right back. His hands ran up her smooth legs as he laid them both back against the bed._

_"Tell me you miss me," he murmured into her lips. She just kept kissing him with her swollen and bruised lips. It seemed enough for him. But when she thought he was asleep, she couldn't help but voice her thoughts._

_"I miss you." He wasn't asleep._


	4. Epilogue

**A/N**: This is the last chapter. Sorry if its really predictable, not to mention really short. I hope you like it anyway.

**Summary**: Its not even because of his seductive charms and how he has to bed everyone. I'm better with when I'm with him. He makes me feel better about myself. He knows me in ways I can't even explain. So I know now that this is how it is.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own anything. The ideas and characters all came from Gossip Girl and Story of My Life.

* * *

Being hit from all sides with innuendos and suggestions wasn't a new thing for me. I did grow up with Chuck Bass. What I did couldn't necessarily be construed as cheating. We were casual and technically he cheated on me first. And if it were anyone else, maybe I could have understood Dean's way of thinking. I know I definitely shouldn't be giving Chuck preferential treatment. It makes him smug. But I was using Dean to get over him.

Here he is again. The notorious womanizer coming onto me stronger than ever even after I "cheated" with him. Shouldn't he be dropping me and making a beeline for the next anorexic blonde model? This isn't exactly the first time this has happened. I guess I'm just afraid of what will happen next. Being with Chuck is like free falling.

Its amazing and exciting and you have no idea what will happen next. You can never see what tomorrow will bring because you are completely content with what is happening in the present and you wouldn't have it any other way. You're in love. But then suddenly you're five feet from the ground, you realize the end is near and there's nothing you can do to stop it. And you're crushed.

So I guess I'll take free falling. Its only the last five feet that I would give away.

He comes over and all his lines are as smooth as silk but profanic and rough. There's no one like him. Last time I didn't give in. Last time he cornered me in a crowded party, I may have had a moment of weakness, but in the end he didn't get what he wanted. Maybe this time, we'll both get what we want.

_"So much wasted potential." Inwardly, Blair's heart jumped at the sound of his husky voice. However, she couldn't let him know that, so she just turned around reluctantly with an eye roll._

_"What are you talking about?" Blair sighed, only meeting his gaze at the last second. He looked good tonight. Damn him._

_"The thing that always fascinated me about you." He paused, waiting for her reaction as she raised her eyebrows for him to continue. "The cool exterior. The fire below." His eyes flicked downward. He was truly heinous. She had a retort ready._

_"_You _are living proof a person can't buy class," she said elegantly._

_"You can't tell me Berty Wooster is satsifying your needs." She didn't like how he said "needs." As if he were the only one who knew what they were. Even if it was true, it didn't give him the right. "Titles aside, a suit of armor makes for a cold bedfellow." His tone went down at the end in a dark manner. _

_Blair hesitated. She hated how he was always right._

_"Not that's its any of your business, but Marcus and I have an amazing sex life," she said hastily._

_"Is that so?" Chuck asked skeptically. She smiled, thinking that she had won. Until he leaned in, making his voice even quieter. "What names does he call you when you make love."_

_Blair wasn't even going to waste time on thinking of the names that Chuck bestowed to her. She hated how he could be so rightfully smug. He was winning and he knew it. Blair just looked into his eyes, unable to answer. The was a ripple in the atmosphere and all of a sudden, she found herself in his arms, her back pressed to his chest._

_She felt his hot breath right at her ear. He was able to whisper to her more discreetly, furthering his seductive ability. _

_"Where does he..." Chuck took her hand in his Rolex clad one and drew his finger across her collar "... put his hands?" He pressed both of their hands down her thigh. Blair tried not to breathe to heavily, but she was sure that he could hear her._

_"Does he..." he switched to her other side, whispering dark profanities in her ear. Blair gasped, her brow furrowing as he grasped her chin firmly in his hand. She was trying desperately not to enjoy this but she couldn't help but feel excruciating pleasure. Blair curled up the fist that his hand covered and closed over hers in passion. He returned to her other ear when he said it._

_"Have sex with me."_

Its right. That's how we keep ending up here. That's the conclusion that I've come to. If it wasn't right, why would I be tangled up in Chuck Bass? Again? This is just the natural order of things. I was stupid enough not to see it before. I used everyone in my path to forget him and it didn't work.

Its not even because of his seductive charms and how he has to bed everyone. I'm better with when I'm with him. He makes me feel better about myself. He knows me in ways I can't even explain. So I know now that this is how it is.

Once again, I have fallen victim to the Chuck Bass Syndrome. Except there's a difference now. I'm here to stay now. I let him seduce me. I let him whisper huskily in my ear. I let him tear my clothes off and I let him throw himself over me on his bed. I let him love me. And I'm going to love him back, whether it kills us both or not. Story of my life.


End file.
